


nasty, brutish and short (or, hickey's romantic exploits)

by MarquisdeDiscotheque, Zsazsa4



Series: rat girl summer [2]
Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Explicit Sexual Content, General Chaos, M/M, Threesome - M/M/M, a fairly good time was had by all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:02:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25877131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarquisdeDiscotheque/pseuds/MarquisdeDiscotheque, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zsazsa4/pseuds/Zsazsa4
Summary: The grimy and unbelievably stupid modern au no one asked for, featuring Hickey: part time scammer and full time messer. Tozer: his lover and partner in fairly petty crime. A nice bit of rough. Fitzjames: discovering his love of a nice bit of rough.
Relationships: Commander James Fitzjames/Cornelius Hickey, Commander James Fitzjames/Cornelius Hickey/Sgt Solomon Tozer, Commander James Fitzjames/Sgt Solomon Tozer, Cornelius Hickey/Sgt Solomon Tozer
Series: rat girl summer [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1877806
Comments: 13
Kudos: 28





	nasty, brutish and short (or, hickey's romantic exploits)

Tozer had never been at ease in James’ kitchen. Probably less so than in any room in the flat - the bedrooms they had christened early on - the bathrooms, the living room, even the little garden where the neighbours peeped out of the window at them. But here he was always worried that he’d break something in the kitchen. Or, worse, fail to appreciate something he didn’t know how to pronounce that Fitzjames wanted him to taste. He felt rude, bulky, because in here he was always on his best behaviour. Even more now, given their unusual guest. 

‘Look,’ he said, gingerly, placing the little gay teacup Fitzjames had provided back down into its saucer, ‘do you have some coffee or something? Instant would do me. Not that the - whatever tea this is - isn’t nice.’

‘Orange and bergamot,’ Fitzjames happily interjected. Orange and what, Tozer thought. 

‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘That.’ Didn’t taste anything like oranges anyway because oranges were nice.

‘I suppose I have been meaning to get out these darling espresso cups for ages,’ Fitzjames offered. 

Tozer shrugged. He had accidentally smashed one of Fitzjames’ espresso cups before and it hadn’t even been a darling one.

‘I’ve completely forgotten the last time we had espresso,’ said Fitzjames, having very much not forgotten. He believed he had perfected the art of not making Tozer uncomfortable, but the strain definitely showed. With the two men now in his kitchen, he tried to be doubly louche, and felt twice the fraud. At least he could give them tea. He’d had to prevail quite heavily on Tozer to get him to actually organise the thing, but now he felt unusually apprehensive.Tozer hadn’t been too keen, hadn’t thought the three of them would get on. But having suggested it, Fitzjames was determined to do it properly.

The man known as Cornelius Hickey watched this interaction with narrowed eyes. He radiated impatient energy, yet sat very still and hadn’t touched his tea. ‘Perhaps not coffee if we’ve plans for this evening, Sol. As it does go right through you.’ He was rude, Fitzjames thought - or at least, he spoke with the curtness of someone used to being listened to.

‘Oh, fuck off,’ Tozer said, and sipped cautiously. Fitzjames was torn with indecision, but stuck with the tea. He had a feeling that he did not want anything going right through anyone. 

The full implication of Hickey’s words only became clear to him as he poured himself another cup, and he felt his exquisitely tailored trousers shift uncomfortably. They had been tailored so there wasn’t much room in them to start with. Now there was painfully little.

‘Did you feel like - well - bottoming tonight, Solomon?’ he said, unable to keep the tremor from his voice. The idea aroused yet obscurely appalled him; Tozer’s arse had always seemed somehow inviolate. Uncharted lands. A passage yet undiscovered.

‘Feels like it most nights, in my experience,’ Hickey said. Tozer frowned but didn’t deny it.

‘You’ve never done that with me,’ he said, trying not to betray either annoyance or arousal and only ending up ridiculous. Hickey’s mouth curved, almost imperceptibly, into a small grin. He fiddled happily with the edge of the tablecloth. Fitzjames suspected him of having chipped some of the decorative enamel off the teacup. He would rise above; he must rise above, to preserve dignity; but damnation, it was difficult with this rattish man lounging across from him.

‘Never thought you wanted to,’ Tozer said. Fitzjames didn’t really want to, but felt like he ought to have put up a better show.

‘Well I want to,’ Hickey said. ‘And I don’t much fancy another cup of that stuff, so how about we get on with what I’m here for?’

If that was the way he wanted it. ‘Fine,’ Fitzjames said. ‘The bedroom is over here.’ He rankled at leaving the cups unwashed; they would certainly stain. But needs must. ‘Would you take your shoes off? The carpet, you know - it’s wood and tile down here so it doesn’t matter as much.’ He realised that he should not have phrased this as a question. Hickey complied readily, although with an irritating simper. He liked him even less servile than rude. And his shoes were ugly.

Tozer was inexplicably put out by the request. ‘I bloody know,’ he muttered. ‘Been here a hundred times before.’ But he did it, of course. Fitzjames gave him a fond tap on the arse as they ascended the stairs, and he seemed to brighten.

Hickey, looking acquisitive, peered around every door frame without being obvious enough that Fitzjames could comment. ‘Second bedroom? Got a housemate?’

‘Spare room,’ Tozer said. The two of them smirked slightly at each other. Fitzjames had never felt ashamed of having a spare bedroom before.

‘Ooh,’ said Hickey. ‘Very fancy.’

‘Well, it does for Francis and so on.’

‘Boyfriend?’ asked Hickey. ‘Must be on the outs if we’re here. How’s he feel about you carrying on with Sol?’

Tozer was deeply regretting bringing the two of them together. He had his fun with Fitzjames, and he had his whatever it was with Hickey, but two was two and three was something else altogether.

‘A friend,’ Fitzjames said coldly. ‘Only that.’ He felt the need to justify this more forcibly. It had somehow been stupid to let something even as inconsequential as that slip, from the way Hickey had pounced on it. And he hadn’t liked that remark about carrying on at all - as he’d understood it, Hickey had no claim on Tozer.

‘Ah. So you’d fuck him if you could, but you can’t?’ Ever-pragmatic, this Hickey.

Fitzjames laughed. It was a preposterous idea nowadays, but not without its charm. ‘You clearly haven’t met Francis.’

‘No,’ said Hickey, ‘how would I have met one of your mates?’ Fitzjames felt that Hickey was taking the comment literally only to wind him up, and seemed to enjoy it, too.

‘He’s on the straight and narrow; you’d not like him, I imagine, Mr Hickey. Cornelius?’ Cornelius didn’t answer, only pursed his lips.

‘You don’t go on like that when one of us is bringing the gear round,’ Tozer said.

‘No, I suppose I don’t,’ Fitzjames said with an attempt at pouring oil on troubled waters. He’d rather Tozer not get sulky now. They couldn’t very well go at it with Tozer moping.

‘There was no offence meant, I’m sure,’ Hickey said. ‘Specially as you did snort quite a lot of it. I mean, you only met Sol because he was dealing.’ He looked Fitzjames up and down appraisingly; mostly up. Despite the fact his greasy man bun was only level with Fitzjames’ nose, he had the air of carrying out an inspection. Fitzjames felt himself judged, and perhaps lacking. In what, he couldn’t imagine. ‘I should like to see the two of you together,’ Hickey said. ‘Up to you how. Although remember, Sol, I’ll be fucking you afterwards, so don’t get carried away.’

‘We’ll be sure to leave you room,’ Fitzjames muttered. He wondered if Hickey’s height and prick accorded in stature, or whether the man’s arrogance was borne of having some supremely, irrationally disproportionate equipment zipped up inside those stupid arty trousers. That would make him and Tozer quite a pair. His mouth watered at the thought.

‘Socks off, eh?’ Tozer said. ‘For a start.’

He and Fitzjames clambered up onto the bed. The linen sheets (a tasteful off-white, with a hint of mauve, chosen especially for the occasion) crumpled around them.

Tozer started to undress himself without a hint of self-consciousness. Fitzjames supposed that Tozer was the only one to have been naked in front of both parties before, but a hint of apprehension might have seemed appropriate. Kind, even. 

‘Come on,’ Tozer said, grinning at him. ‘What’s got into you? You couldn’t wait for this.’

‘I thought we should at least give Mr Hic- Cornelius, a bit of a show, darling.’

‘Take it off,’ Hickey leered from the armchair. A rather delightful armchair, upholstered in vintage india cotton, for all the good it was doing him now. Fitzjames had picked the design himself. Now Hickey sprawled as if he’d always owned it.

‘I look better with my clothes off anyway,’ Tozer said. ‘Come on, let’s get you out of this. I hate that shirt, bloody fiddly buttons.’

Fitzjames allowed Tozer to make a mess of undoing the top few, while he worked at the bottom buttons with slick efficiency. Tozer’s hands brushing against his clavicle were rough, and he allowed himself to be manhandled. Tozer had always been easy to rise and Fitzjames rubbed at the bulge in his jeans. 

‘That’s more like it,’ Tozer said, pleased. He got off the bed to take his jeans off and Hickey got up to stand behind him, holding him close and running his hands down his chest.

Fitzjames felt his cock give another start. He shrugged off the shirt and began, a little clumsily, to get himself out of his trousers. He considered folding them properly but thought the implicit ridicule would be too much to take, even as the idea of it gave him a hot, dirty feeling in his stomach. When he threw them off the bed and slipped himself free from his briefs, even Hickey seemed to hum in approval, as he thumbed at one of Tozer’s nipples.

‘Not going to fold them?’ Tozer said, fondly. ‘Forgot about fussing over your clothes for once, that’s how much you like it.’

Fitzjames flushed red. Instead of offering any defence (not that many presented themselves) he rose to meet Tozer. Hickey leered from over Tozer’s shoulder, and Fitzjames, in a rush of boldness, fisted one of his hands into Hickey’s hair and kissed him. It drew a surprised but not disinterested huff of pleasure from the smaller man. He got a hand down Tozer’s boxers, and heard him take a rapid breath as he kept kissing Hickey. Hickey licked a little at Fitzjames’ lips until he opened his mouth and let in Hickey’s warm, wet tongue. Too soon he pulled Fitzjames off and looked at Tozer, who was pressed into Fitzjames and fucking into his hand.

‘I’d like to see him suck you off,’ Hickey said to Fitzjames. ‘Would you like that, Sol?’

Tozer gave a distracted smile, held between the two of them and straining in his boxers. When he didn’t reply, Hickey tugged sharply at his hair. ‘Ow,’ Tozer said, not sounding displeased. ‘Yeah, I would, get off.’

Hickey retreated to the chair and sat there. He’d kept his clothes on but pulled his cock out. 

‘You look a right dirty perv,’ Tozer said. ‘At least take your trousers off.’ 

‘No,’ said Hickey, ‘I think I’ll keep them on for now. And I think you should get to it.’

Fitzjames watched the two men; the way they talked roughly to each other, but with obvious affection. He traced a hand over Tozer’s cheek, across his shoulder to the chest, admiring the muscle, and then down to the softer stomach. He pulled Tozer back on top of him. Skin met skin, and Fitzjames felt Tozer’s reassuring weight against his own body as he shuffled up to the top of the bed and gently guided Tozer in between his legs. The headboard, wrought iron, bit cold against his back. He hadn’t intended to spread his legs like that, and it made him feel peculiarly exposed to Hickey’s gaze.

Tozer began to lick at Fitzjames, coaxing him up so that he was fully hard, with one hand pawing at his own cock.

‘Oi, Sol, stop touching yourself. Hands off. You’ve got no self control.’

Tozer took his mouth off Fitzjames’ cock - James gave a whine - long enough to say ‘Fuck you, Cornelius,’ but he removed the offending hand. It did seem to have improved his concentration, as he bent over to suck Fitjzames in earnest. But Fitzjames stopped him, and instead guided his prick into Tozer’s mouth. Tozer’s eyes widened.

‘That’s good,’ Hickey said. ‘Feed him your cock.’ 

Fitzjames pushed further into Tozer’s mouth until he hit the back of his throat, felt Tozer swallow around him. He rutted into Tozer’s mouth like an overeager teenager, hands clawing at the bedsheets. Tozer coughed, eyes watering. Fitzjames felt Hickey’s eyes on him and managed a quick hair-toss. He knew he played well to an audience, and he was starting to rather like this one.

‘Steady,’ Hickey said. ‘You’ll choke him.’ But he sounded intrigued rather than concerned.

‘He’ll manage-’ Fitzjames panted. ‘Not averse to having it rough, are you, Solomon?’

‘It’s you likes a bit of rough,’ Hickey said. Tozer snorted and gave what might have been a laugh had he not been otherwise engaged. Fitzjames felt the vibration around his cock.

Oh, get fucked, you little tosser, Fitzjames thought, and kept thrusting into Tozer’s mouth. He raised an arched eyebrow at Hickey, and collected himself enough to say, ‘You’ll be able to hear it in his voice when I’m done.’ Hickey seemed, for the first time, genuinely annoyed. Between that and the thought of being able to hear himself in how rough, how fucked, Tozer would sound afterwards, he came in Tozer’s mouth. Tozer swallowed, spluttered, and flopped onto his back. 

‘Fucking hell,’ he said weakly. ‘You could have given us a bit of warning. You don’t usually go at it like that.’ His cock had softened slightly from the lack of attention, but a little precome glistened on his belly.

Fitzjames steadied his features into something like pride. He felt very, very fagged out, but couldn’t let the weasel man know it. His hair was plastered to his neck with sweat.  
He used a foot to gently nudge Tozer’s erection. ‘Do you want a go, or shall I finish him off?’

‘What, with your foot?’ Hickey snorted. ‘Shove over, this bed’s big enough for three.’ He slipped himself out of his clothes with efficiency, revealing a distinctly average prick. It seemed a bit of a waste, somehow, for him to be fucking Tozer, but James was curious to see it. Perhaps, if Tozer enjoyed it as much as the little weasel implied, James would have a go another time.

Tozer moved over so that he was half-sat, half-lying, in between Fitzjames’ legs. Hickey climbed on top of him, with a hungry look that left little to the imagination. He kissed Tozer, licking impatiently at his mouth.

‘Go on then, Cornelius,’ Tozer said, tripping over the name in a rush, desperate for someone, anyone, to get a hand on him. He was achingly hard, longing for a touch. Hickey ran a finger through the wetness at the head and licked it off his finger. He reached down and circled Tozer’s hole with deliberately unhurried strokes. ‘Stop fucking about and get on with it.’

‘Tell me how much you want it, then,’ said Hickey, evenly. He slicked up a couple of fingers with the lube on the nightstand. ‘Nice stuff, this.’ Fitzjames wondered what they had been using before. He hoped Tozer’s quite possibly invented tales of vaseline in the army weren’t anything to go by.

Hickey started to open Tozer up, excruciatingly slowly, making slick, wet sounds. Fitzjames pulled Tozer’s legs apart further and craned his neck to get a better look. ‘I won’t fuck you until you tell me, Sol.’

‘Fuck off,’ Tozer said. He’d flushed a splotchy red up his chest, was sweating heavily, his cock dark and leaking against his stomach. ‘Fuck off, Cornelius.’

‘Oh, it’s like that, then, is it?’ Hickey said. ‘Pity.’ He pulled his fingers out casually, making Tozer grunt and clench. He traced his slick fingers up and down Tozer’s thigh, coming maddeningly close only to pull away. 

‘All right,’ Tozer said, ‘all right, you bastard. I want it. I need you to fuck me, please. Is that enough?’

Hickey laughed. ‘You give in quick. Yeah, I suppose it’ll do.’ He quickly pushed both fingers back in, and Tozer’s head fell back against Fitzjames’ chest. Fitzjames moved a hand forward to grasp at Tozer’s stomach, and then to his cock - but Hickey stopped him. His hand clasped Fitzjames’, prying it away. Fitzjames realised, absurdly, that this was the first time that he and Hickey’s hands had touched. The man’s nails were neat, he noted. Dainty. His mouth curved into a crooked smile, and then by god if he didn’t wink at Fitzjames. ‘Softie,’ he said. ‘Bit of waiting never hurt anyone.’

Fitzjames had never put much stock in waiting for anything, frankly, but Hickey’s smile was infectious. Fitzjames felt like a co-conspirator in some great game. He pulled away, toying instead with one of Tozer’s nipples. Tozer groaned and squirmed and swore at both of them. Hickey grinned and angled another finger inside, making Tozer gasp and screw up his eyes, then moved to push his entirely average, but pleasantly pink, cock against Tozer’s hole.

‘Aren’t-’ Fitzjames started ‘-aren’t you going to use a condom?’ It was a bit late for that now, as it seemed like they didn’t use one together, but better than nothing. He felt as if he were ruining the natural mood of the scene, but then he’d rather ruin the mood now than pay for it later.

‘Oh yeah,’ Hickey said. ‘Whoops. Are they in this drawer? Ta.’ He opened a foil square with one hand and his teeth and rolled a condom on, rubbing inside Tozer with his other hand. Despite himself, Fitzjames was impressed. The man was clearly talented - he wondered what else Hickey might get up to. Such a strange man, with his sharp face and sulky, dextrous charm.

Then Hickey got to it, and Fitzjames found it quite difficult to think at all. Hickey fucked into Tozer like a man possessed. Tozer, who was usually near silent, gasped and grunted louder than Fitzjames had ever heard him. Fiztjames felt compelled to suck and lick at Tozer’s neck to feel the noise rising in Tozer’s throat. Fitzjames almost wished he hadn’t come earlier, that he wasn’t so purely a spectator. 

He could resist no longer - no point in being coy now, not when Tozer was making these exquisite little grunts, and he wanted a part in drawing them out of him. He brought a hand down to Tozer’s cock and brought him off the way he knew Tozer liked best. Hickey didn’t try to stop Fitzjames a second time, but pounded harder, bared his teeth. 

‘God,’ Tozer said. ‘I’m so, I’m so close. I have to - God -’

‘What’s God got to do with it?’ Hickey said. ‘It’s me inside you. Come for me.’

Tozer cried out as he came, spending up his belly. Fitzjames wiped what was on his hands onto Tozer’s chest. The poor thing looked quite dazed, Fitzjames thought, but Hickey certainly didn’t relent. If anything, he sped up. James could almost feel Hickey’s narrow hips himself, the man fucked so violently. ‘Who else gives it you like this?’ Hickey hissed. He met Fitzjames’ eyes, Tozer rocking between them. They darkened. ‘No one gives it you like me.’ He was less collected now, losing some of that self-conscious attempt at charm that had so repelled Fitzjames. 

Tozer was breathing hard through his nose, broad hands clutching at Hickey’s bony shoulders. The warm glow was wearing off, and this pleasure was sharper, starting to give over to discomfort. ‘Fucking Christ,’ Tozer said. ‘It’s too much.’

Hickey kept thrusting, no longer meeting Fitzjames’ gaze as his eyes lost focus, fluttered shut. ‘Just a little more, love. Come on, pet, just let me - Ah!’ He broke off and his thrusts became shallower, his hips stilling. Just for a moment his face softened, seemed to lose that permanently pinched expression of amused reserve. He leaned forward, steadying himself on Tozer’s chest so that Fitzjames felt the full weight of the two of them pressed against him. For the first time he felt that they were all one. 

Tozer swore as Hickey pulled out of him abruptly and resumed the impish expression Fitzjames had become so wearily used to. 

Hickey took the condom off and half-staggered towards the bin. ‘Fancy a taste?’ he said, waving it at Fitzjames’s face. Fitzjames blinked, wondering if this was a joke and if so at whose expense. Hickey winked at him again, campy and exaggerated, before tying it off and disposing of it. He lay down on the bed on Tozer’s other side and yawned like a cat. Fitzjames took the moment of respite to slide his hands down Tozer’s body - all his, once more, his lovely man - but Tozer batted them away as he reached lower, mumbling ‘it’s too much’.

Fitzjames was not sure he had heard Tozer say such a thing before. Usually he was a dedicated serviceman in bed - lazy, perhaps, but permanently up for anything. And he had a corresponding member of the armed forces. ‘Are you all right, Solomon?’ he said, slightly concerned.

‘He’ll live. Enjoyed it, didn’t he,’ Hickey said, stroking Tozer’s hair. ‘That’s right, isn’t it, love?’

Tozer hummed in agreement, dazed and sleepy. ‘How about a cuddle, lads?’ he said.

Hickey and Fitzjames locked eyes in some mutual feeling neither could bring themselves to name. Hickey scrunched up his nose. ‘Alright. But you’re in the middle. God, I’m dying for a fag. Mind if we light up?’

‘Not in the house, please,’ Fitzjames said, feebly. Hickey rolled his eyes and even Tozer, who never minded going out for a smoke, looked put out. Fitzjames felt on the defensive. He almost gave in, but for imagining what havoc the smoke would play with the soft furnishings and his books. 

They lay quietly for a while. Hickey had tucked his small body under Tozer’s arm and rested his head on Tozer’s chest, hand playing with Tozer’s scanty chest hair. Fitzjames, on the other side, curled against Tozer and nuzzled into his shoulder. The man in the middle huffed in contentment. He felt very sticky, a little sore, and very loved, and he basked in it. 

Too soon, Hickey sat up and started messing about rolling a cigarette. He looked as if he could do it blindfolded, quick little tongue licking it closed with practised ease.

‘Do us one,’ Tozer said. When Hickey had finished both, they got up and pulled on their underwear.

‘You can’t go outside like that,’ Fitzjames said, impressed and horrified.

Tozer pulled his t-shirt on, but Hickey shrugged. ‘Got a coat will cover it all up,’ he said. When they emerged into the garden, Fitzjames peered at them out of the window. The coat Hickey had been talking about was Fitzjames’ own, and he knew getting the smoke out of the wool would be a nightmare. Little bastard, rat bastard, he thought. It didn’t even fit right; it was far too long, and hung about Hickey’s ankles. He looked like a wizened child playing dress-up. 

Tozer and Hickey laughed together below, almost certainly at his expense, nudging each other and bumping shoulders. Tozer had put his parka on and his bare legs stuck out beneath it. They both looked absurd but happy. Weak afternoon light caught at the edges of their hair, their buttons, illuminated Hickey’s bloody enormous nose in profile. Still, somehow, they looked lovely. Lovely and roguish. Tozer saw him looking and gave a loud whistle, which would certainly get the attention of all the other flats.

‘Blow us a kiss, gorgeous,’ he shouted up at Fitzjames.

Fitzjames laughed and obliged. As he sat back on the bed, he felt melancholy, but calmer, more content. He’d had a good fuck, a better show and he still had two delectable men in his back garden. Time, he thought, to reread Lady Chatterley. Not usually one of his favourites, but deliciously appropriate. This felt like the sort of afternoon he’d remember for years, in a haze of pleasure, a wonderful private memory to put away and take out at his leisure. He almost couldn’t wait for them to be gone.

**Author's Note:**

> hope this was even a quarter as much fun to read as it was to write.


End file.
